The Final Will and Testament of Sirius Black
by Bexpotter
Summary: Following the depressing events at the end of Harry's 5th Year, can some news from the Wizarding World lift his spirits? One Shot


Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters involved.  
  
The Final Will and Testament of Sirius Phineas Black  
  
Harry was sitting at his desk desperately trying to read a book he'd borrowed off of Ron the previous term, on Quidditch. He'd found that if he kept his mind on other things it was harder to think about- about, even thinking about his name was hard.  
  
He'd only been back at Privet Drive about a week, yet Hogwarts seemed like a million miles away. For the first time in his entire life Harry was almost glad he was at the Dursley's. Although the Dursley's had been told what had happened, they chose to ignore it, and for that matter ignore Harry as well. They weren't mistreating him, he'd never been fed so much in all the time he'd been at the Dursley's, Uncle Vernon was terrified at what Mad-Eye Moody might do to him if he did mistreat Harry. Harry had to agree that a threat from Moody was one to take caution with; he'd heard plenty of stories about what happened to people who got on the wrong side of Alastor Moody.  
  
While he was at the Dursley's he was away from the wizard world- away from news of Voldemort- and away from people talking to him about his loss. Not that many people knew about that, but the people he was closest to did, and he didn't want to discuss the matter with them. It was almost refreshing, last term all his closest friends had done was tiptoe around him as though they were convinced that he was going to break down in tears at any moment. In reality he'd only cried over Sirius once, and that didn't count, it hadn't been proper crying down by the lake.  
  
How could they understand what he was going through? He'd lost the one person in his life he truly loved, the one parental figure in his whole life. Ron and Hermione would tell him that they understood how he felt, but how could they, they all had families, families who loved them. The only family Harry had left hated him; they only put up with him because Albus Dumbledore had told them to fifteen years ago. Sirius had been the only family Harry wanted, and now he was gone. Gone like everyone else he ever loved.  
  
The feelings Harry had gone through when Cedric had died had multiplied. The guilt he'd felt back then had been like there was a giant sitting on his shoulders. It was now far worse. The depression he felt was too strong to even convey into words. Sirius had only been part of his life for about two years, but it felt like he'd been around forever. Harry wished he'd been around forever.  
  
The stupid thing was that before, if he'd felt as bad as this, he'd have written to Sirius. Harry had found himself with a piece of parchment and a quill in front of him, ready to write to him several times, before he remembered he'd gone.  
  
The only thing Harry found himself wanting to do was to be hugged by his godfather, for Sirius to tell him that he loved him, for Sirius to tell him he'd always be there. He wanted to tell Sirius everything Dumbledore had told him his office, for Sirius to then hug him and tell him everything was going to be fine. Harry picked up the book he had been trying to read and threw it at the wall in frustration. Why did it have to have been Sirius, who died, it wasn't fair. He'd barely even known his Godfather.  
  
Harry glanced out of the window and saw the sun setting over Little Whinging; the sky was awash with colour. He flopped back onto his bed, glancing at the picture of his parents wedding day as he did so. He'd bought a photoframe for it on a recent visit to Hogsmeade. He wasn't sure if he had it by his bed because it had his parents in, or because it had Sirius in.  
  
Next to it lay the handle of a penknife. Harry couldn't bring himself to throw away the useless thing. There was no blade on it; it had melted while he had been using it to open a door only a few weeks ago. Sirius had given it to him for Christmas one year, how could he throwaway anything Sirius had given him. He still had bundles of letters from his Godfather in a box under the loose floorboard under his bed.  
  
The same was true with a smashed mirror that resided at the bottom of his trunk. It was a two-way mirror Sirius had given him for Christmas so that they could talk. Harry had never used it. At the end of the previous term Harry had hoped he could talk to his dead Godfather by using it, but Sirius hadn't had the mirror with him when he had fallen. The mirror was useless but Harry couldn't bring himself to part with it.  
  
Somewhere downstairs the doorbell rang, Harry barely heard it, he was too involved in his own thoughts.  
  
"Harry, downstairs now," shouted Harry's Uncle Vernon from the bottom of the stairs. Uncle Vernon calling him Harry was a new step, up until he'd come home this summer it'd always been boy. Harry supposed it was still the threat of Mad-Eye that caused that. Harry rolled of his bed and made his way to the door, grabbing his wand as he went. It was better to be safe than sorry; he hadn't even gone downstairs without it recently. He supposed he was being stupid, Dumbledore had told him he was safe at the Dursley's.  
  
As he reached the bottom step he saw a very familiar shabby looking figure standing just inside the door.  
  
"Hello Harry," Remus Lupin smiled at him, as he pushed his light brown, greying hair off of his face, how on earth could he smile, he'd just lost his best friend, and did he have no feelings at all. "Can I have a word with Harry alone?" He asked Uncle Vernon, who nodded fearfully, knowing all too well that this man was a wizard, and one of the ones who'd met him at Kings Cross the week before. "Harry maybe your bedroom might be the best place," Harry shrugged and led his former teacher up the stairs to his small bedroom.  
  
"How are you then?" Remus asked, as he shut the bedroom door. What a stupid question, Harry thought, how did he think he felt. He'd lost the one person in the world he loved. Harry shrugged and sat down on the bed, Remus walked over and sat next to him.  
  
"Why are you here?" Harry asked,  
  
"I need to talk to you," Remus paused, "it's about-" he stopped again as though he was trying to find the right words. "It's about Si-Sirius's will." Harry looked up from the carpet he'd been staring at. Remus pulled out his wand, and muttered something under his breath. "Soundproofing spell," he told Harry, "don't want the Dursley's hearing what we're talking about." Harry's brain was still trying to comprehend the words 'Sirius's will,' he knew he was dead, he didn't need the fact rubbed in.  
  
"What do I need to know about his will?" Harry asked angrily, looking away from Lupin. Why did he have to bring Sirius up, why?  
  
"Harry, he left a lot of stuff to you on his will." Harry cut him off.  
  
"I don't want any of it. I just want Sirius back." He blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from forming in his eyes. He always had bloody tears in his eyes when someone mentioned him.  
  
"Harry, I know what you're going through." Harry interrupted him again,  
  
"How do you know what I'm going through at all?" He yelled suddenly, standing up and turning to face Lupin. "You have no idea how I feel."  
  
"Harry he was my best friend, I know exactly how you're feeling. My father died when I was eleven, I know how you feel, okay. You're not the only one whose lost their father," Remus shouted back. Harry looked up shocked, he didn't remember ever hearing Remus shouting before.  
  
"He wasn't my father," Harry said simply sitting back down again.  
  
"I know, but he was the closest thing you had to one. He was more of a father to you than anyone else was." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry drew his legs up until he could rest his chin on his knees. He buried his face in his hands.  
  
"I miss him," he muttered softly, Remus's grip on his shoulder increased.  
  
"I know you do," Harry was shocked to find that he had tears running down his face. Remus, who seemed to sense Harry was crying, pulled him closer to him, until he had Harry in his arms. He put his arms around the sobbing teenage boy. Harry didn't even resist, but continued to sob onto Remus's shoulder. Remus gently removed Harry's glasses from where they had been digging into his face, and placed them on the table next to the picture of his parents.  
  
"Shhh, it's okay," he said softly, as he tried to comfort Harry. It'd had been inevitable that eventually Harry would break down over Sirius's death. The boy who lived couldn't keep up this front of having no emotions, forever. That's had been the reason he'd been sent to tell Harry about the will instead of Tonk, who'd, suggested she should go. Dumbledore had thought it best for Remus to go, Harry knew him better, Dumbledore had warned him this could happen. Remus rubbed the boy's back, as Harry shook with suppressed emotion. The problem with Harry was he tended to have a way of letting all of his problems build up, if he ever learnt to talk about what was bothering him things would become easier.  
  
"Why didn't he come back? He only fell over." Harry sobbed into Remus's grey travelling cloak, " Nearly Headless Nick said he can't come back, even as a ghost because he doesn't want to. Didn't he care about anything here? Doesn't he know that I want him here?"  
  
"Sirius loved you more than anyone in the world." Remus told Harry, as he brushed a lock of damp black hair out of Harry's eyes.  
  
"He never said he did," Harry managed to get out in between sobs, "He never once told me he loved me, or hugged me, or, or." He broke off, his shoulders shaking.  
  
"He was too scared to. He was terrified you'd think he was trying to become your father, like he was trying to take over your life. I promise you, he loved you like you were his own son. He didn't want to become James."  
  
"I wouldn't have minded that." Harry said softly into Remus's shoulder.  
  
"I know you wouldn't, but he didn't."  
  
Harry fell silent at this, and Remus went back to trying to make him stop crying.  
  
Harry had no idea how long he had been wrapped in Remus's arms, when the crying eventually subsided, and was replaced by hiccups. He had no memory of ever being hugged by his father, seeing as he had only been fifteen months old when his parents had died. He felt safer just sitting there with Remus's arms around him than he had in a long while.  
  
"I suppose you think I'm pathetic?" Harry said in between hiccups. Remus jumped slightly at the sound of his voice.  
  
"No, what would give you that idea?"  
  
"Crying, I'm nearly sixteen and I'm sitting here sobbing onto your shoulders like I'm a child."  
  
"You have good reason to," Remus told him calmly, smoothing Harry's unruly black hair in a very paternal fashion, "Many boys your age cry for much stupider reasons than that."  
  
Harry moved his head slightly so he could make out the smiling waving picture of his parents and Sirius. "It isn't fair." He muttered more to himself than to anyone else.  
  
"I know it isn't," Remus answered him, "it's not fair at all." They sat there in silence for several minutes before Remus broke the silence. "Look Harry, I know you don't want to talk about Sirius's will, but I really think we should, it'll only prolong it if we don't. The sooner we get it over with the better."  
  
"Why would he have left anything to me anyway?" Harry said, his voice still slightly shaky form crying.  
  
"Because he loved you." Remus told him," you were like a son to him. Of course he's left you stuff in his will."  
  
Remus pulled away slightly from Harry, as he pulled a piece of parchment out of one of his pockets. After he'd opened the letter he put his remaining free arm back around Harry. He then began to read,  
  
"The Final Will and Testament of Sirius Phineas Black.  
  
I Sirius Phineas Black, hereby leave my, blah, blah, blah, that bit's not very interesting and absolutely nothing to do with you." Remus told him as he scanned the document for relevant pieces of information, "ah here we are. To my Godson, Harry James Potter I leave the remainder of the Black fortune, the Black Estate including everything residing inside it and my motorbike (providing Hagrid hasn't broken it.)" Remus broke off, "that's it. He left virtually everything to you." Harry remained silent; he was thinking things over in his mind.  
  
"How much is the remainder of the Black Fortune?" He asked, he didn't need or want any money. He'd exchange all the money he had in the world for half an hour with Sirius; he just wanted to talk to him.  
  
"Well he left some of it to me, but the remainder is about twenty million galleons, the Blacks are a fairly wealthy wizarding family."  
  
"Twenty million galleons," Harry said in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah, which at the moment brings your total bank account to around two hundred and eighty million galleons." Remus said matter of factly, he didn't seem fazed by the amount at all.  
  
"How much?" Harry gasped, he'd known his parents had been rich but he had no idea they were that rich.  
  
"Two hundred and eighty million galleons, of course the majority of that money you can't touch until you're twenty one. You can only touch the money Sirius left you and the money in your parents vault."  
  
"So where does the other money come from?" Harry asked, still in total disbelief. How could he have that much money? He knew there was quite a lot in his vault, but surely it couldn't be that much.  
  
"The Potter Vault, you see your great, great, great grandfather invented the Snitch. So you get all of the royalties that they get from selling them, which is quite a lot, as you can imagine. The other Vault is just your Mum and Dad's money."  
  
Harry couldn't take it all in. "And the Black Estate, I thought he gave it to the Order of the Phoenix to use."  
  
"Well he did, but it belongs to you. They're just using it as a headquarters. The house is legally yours, so you could chuck them all out if you want," he paused and thought over what he'd just said, "not that I'm suggesting that you do that." He corrected himself quickly.  
  
"I thought Dumbledore said that this still had to be my home?"  
  
"Well it is- the other one is just a second home. It's called bending the rules a little."  
  
"And his motorbike? Is that the one that flies?"  
  
"Well Hagrid didn't break it, it is yours, yes it does fly and no you can't ride it yet."  
  
"Why not?" Harry asked indignantly, sounding more like a normal, stroppy sixteen-year-old than Remus ever remembered hearing him.  
  
"For one thing you're too young, you can't drive it until you're seventeen and for another it's much too dangerous."  
  
Harry scowled slightly, "but can I ride it when I'm old enough?" Being able to ride Sirius's old motorbike would be one of the best things in the world, although not as good as Sirius teaching him how to drive it.  
  
"Possibly," Remus said in a tone that clearly told Harry that if Remus had anything to do with it he wouldn't go anywhere near the bike, even after he'd left Hogwarts.  
  
"So can I move into the Black Estate, I mean it is mine after all?" Harry said pleadingly. It was his house; he was beginning to feel more positive about the wizarding world since talking to Remus. If he went back there he'd have someone to talk to, most of the time, people were always going in or out of the 'Noble House of Black.'  
  
"That's one of the reasons I'm here."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm here to collect you."  
  
"What I'm going back with you?" Harry said excitedly.  
  
"Yep," Remus glanced down at the cracked watch on his wrist, "Ah, not much time left. You better pack all of your stuff up; I'll go and tell the Dursley's we're leaving." He got up and left the room. Harry threw all of his possessions into his trunk in no order at all. He had barely shut the case when Remus walking back into the room, pulling what looked like an old newspaper out of his pocket. He pointed his wand at Harry's trunk and shrunk it. He picked it up and put it in his pocket. He then took Hedwig's cage and indicated for Harry to take the newspaper. Harry had no sooner touched it than Remus began counting down from three.  
  
"Three, two, one" The next thing Harry saw was the familiar whirl of colours, as the portkey left Privet Drive.  
  
Right-although this doesn't seem like a one-shot, it is.  
  
Why? Because I have very important year at school and I don't have time to write a complete novel length fic. The other reason is that everyone is doing sixth year fics and I don't want to now, I've decided that I'd rather concentrate on my un-finished stories, than start new one.  
  
This isn't new, it's been completely written since the Monday after OOTP came out, I've just been to busy toying with the idea of writing a new story and I've only just got round to putting it up.  
  
Please review, and watch this space for updates of The boy who cried wolf. There will be updates although I'm not sure when. 


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